


somewhere a king has no wife

by orphan_account



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal, Humiliation, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, morty is a damsel and rick saves him, rick calls morty a pretty girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick returned his panicked look and shrill complaint of his name with a mocking smirk and leaned closer to run his thumb over Morty’s fucking lingerie.He couldn’t even feign surprise. After all, Morty was a little bitch who always had his panties in a twist. Rick pulled at the hem on his hip and sorted through the database of quips he had saved for moments like these.“I mean, I always knew you were a pussy, but come on.”--Morty's kind of a damsel in distress.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 11
Kudos: 127





	somewhere a king has no wife

**Author's Note:**

> hey all! this is a fic where rick calls morty a girl to degrade him and shit. it's problematic, sorry. but i mean... r/m is pretty problematic either way... oops. this is my first contribution to this fandom because i couldn't rest until i got rick callin morty a pretty fucking girl out of my head. thank you for reading!

By the time the green portal swirled open and coated the whole room in its signature sickly lime shade, Morty was already stuck against some sterile white control panel, curled up around himself. Rick had been ready to come in hot to save his dumb ass, guns blazing against a whole hoarde of whatever alien scum had taken him in the first place, but a visual scan of the room showed nothing but his shivering companion with his legs folded to his chest and his ankles crossed tightly. He didn’t look startled when the portal rippled out of the wall. He just peered up at Rick with bloodshot eyes and nodded hello. 

“Took you long enough,” he said, and Rick rolled his eyes at the blatant show of ungratefulness. He didn’t think there was anybody- any _thing_ \- else in the room, but he figured it’d be better to check before he got them executed over his biting need to lash out at Morty. Besides, what kind of backwater alien fuck left a hostage alone in a room, ripe for the picking? Lucky for the little brat, Rick was a pretty decent multitasker.

“You’re lucky I came for you, dumbass.” Rick kicked over a poorly-rooted pillar of some sort. Still nothing in the room besides them. “What, what is it, Morty, only six in the goddamn morning and you’re already getting kidnapped?” 

He couldn’t see Morty, but he was sure he was furrowing his brow indignantly. “I didn’t exactly plan to be tied up and used as bait. And I had to wake up at _five_.” Such a whiner, even when Rick had graciously answered the ransom call that had very rudely stirred him from his rest, er, drunken stupor. 

“How many times have I told you to sleep with a weapon under your fucking pillow? A, a knife, or a gun or _something_. I’m always telling you. Maybe if you listened, Morty.”

“I-It’s not like you’ve never been taken off guard before, Rick,” he protested again. Rick waved his free hand dismissively and tested the only door he could find. Locked from the outside, or bound with some obnoxious technology just to make his life harder. He pulled a small, flat piece of metal from his pocket and jammed it between the entry and the frame to return the favor. He couldn’t argue that he hadn’t been tied up in his fair share of otherworldly control rooms, but at least he tried not to get backed into corners he couldn’t escape alone, alright. With his track record, it seemed like Morty couldn’t get enough of being captured and held prisoner. 

Feeling satisfied with his assessment of the immediate threat, Rick holstered his gun and started poking around for any indication of who the fuck may have wanted to roll him out of bed in the first place. “Yeah, asshole, but I can usually unjam myself from a sticky situation. You’re just an annoying fucking girl, a-always needing my help, needing me to cover your ass,” he said, poking around at some unlabeled buttons. He couldn’t help the scientist within him. 

“That’s… not very nice. A-and, y’know, kinda degrading to girls.” Morty’s voice had a squeaky affect when he spoke. He was obviously still tired, probably a bit flustered from the whole ordeal, otherwise he wouldn’t be running his mouth so much. Rick pulled his mouth down tightly and finally lost interest in figuring out where in the galaxy they might be. The venn diagram of sentient beings who wanted him dead and sentient beings with shitty taste in space-age decor was basically a fucking circle. He glanced at Morty, started casually making his way over. 

“Whine about it on your blog. And if you want someone who, who - ask someone else to come get you if you want _nice._ ” Rick already towered over Morty when they were just standing side by side; he cast a shadow over his entire huddled body like this. 

“I didn’t have a _choice_!”

“Exactly, Morty, beggars can’t be fuckin’ choosers, now let me see the damage.” He shoved a hand into his pocket and rooted around until he found a plain old switchblade. He flicked it open as he knelt down, finally taking the time to check over Morty. If he was offended that he had been Rick’s last priority, he only showed it a little. 

Morty’s slim wrists were bound together above his head with a thick (but clearly not impenetrable) cable, rubbed raw and pink from thrashing around like a pussy, no doubt. He was sitting at a very unkind angle with his bare knees drawn up to his body. It was probably cold, Rick noted absently; he was fully dressed anyways. The familiar threadbare yellow shirt was sporting a few new holes, the aftermath of some scuffle. Some of the angry tears raked over his chest, revealing the irritated, scratched skin underneath. Rick’s tightly-drawn frown quirked up just a bit at the sight, and what he noticed when Morty shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

“Look at you, kid, you weren’t joking about being caught with your pants down,” he teased evenly, raising a side of his eyebrow and resting a hand on Morty’s freezing cold knee. He felt like some kind of reptile to the touch, damn. The light pressure made Morty scramble, pulling his knee away and trying to wiggle out of Rick’s surveillant gaze. Rick just replaced his hand and gently forced his knee down. His knife pressed menacingly against Morty’s thigh, the slightest implication of a threat. Rick returned his panicked look and shrill complaint of his name with a mocking smirk and leaned closer to run his thumb over Morty’s fucking _lingerie_. 

He couldn’t even feign surprise. After all, Morty was a little bitch who always had his panties in a twist. Rick pulled at the hem on his hip and sorted through the database of quips he had saved for moments like these.

“I mean, I always knew you were a pussy, but come on.” He didn’t miss Morty’s delicate shiver when he snapped the lacy yellow hem back into place. He didn’t miss the way the fabric was strained even without his help.

Morty looked so embarrassed he could die. Rick could push it further. 

“Sh-should, shouldn’t you be focused on getting us the fuck out of here? I think these guys want to kill you,” he finally managed, just a little bit assertive even with Rick’s switchblade against his skin. Rick felt a small surge of pride for the kid; he’d admit he hadn’t been as restrained as he should have in the past when he was annoyed with Morty, but here he was, still standing up to at least some of Rick’s ribbing. He was learning. 

Rick gestured to the wedge in the door and shrugged. “Who doesn’t? Nobody’s joining us anytime soon, alright. Such a fuckin’ damsel in distress, right, Morty? Always needing me to come and rescue you and shit.”

“I’m not, and I don’t,” Morty started, but he couldn’t quite finish when Rick ran a finger over the front of his very shortly trimmed panties. He gasped and started to part his legs just a bit before he drew them in tighter, nicking his skin on the blade. The shock of the injury made him loosen up and whimper, but no matter how he sat he couldn’t hide the fact that he was hard, not after Rick had felt it. He looked up helplessly. “Please, please just get me out, just let it- I wanna go home.” 

“Then say it,” Rick said simply, sitting back on his heels. He dragged the sharp edge softly up Morty’s leg, trailing a tiny smear of red along with it, dragging it over the very slight curve of his hip where it caught against the lace. Morty frowned, bit his lip. 

“What do you mean, what do you want me to say?” Rick just barely brushed the pointed tip against his growing arousal, which caused a sigh it seemed like he couldn’t help. It was cute, basically. “Don’t rip them,” he breathed after. Rick followed his request with only the tiniest eye roll. 

“Tell me… Say you’re a pussy little girl who always needs me to fix your messes.” Morty keened at that, out of embarrassment or interest or whatever else was going through his slow ass brain. Rick took the second option; he wasn’t particularly subtle when he was eroticized. It made for some interesting moments in the lab and field. 

His eyes were still wide and red, but he looked far more attentive as he tested his wrists against the cable holding him in place. Rick noticed his brown curls mussed up on one side, a loosely tangled hint of bedhead. He tapped his wrist and shrugged towards the door again. “You wanna get caught like this?” He smirked knowingly when Morty groaned at the thought. “Nevermind, ‘cause I bet you fuckin’ do, bet you just dream about shit like this, Morty,” he said, hot and heavy while he leaned in towards Morty’s rapidly flushing ear. He flashed a sharp tooth against the warm, red shell of it. “Just come on, baby, if you say it I’ll fuckin’, I’ll save you and make it all better.” 

For his part, Morty had given up on being coy, letting his lap fall open and pressing up against the heel of Rick’s palm which was just touching him, but clearly not touching him enough. Rick ignored him and moved his hand. “Rick,” he said in a big whisper, sounding thoroughly abashed, then, “I’m your dumb little girl, Rick, I-I, I need you, need you to help me, please save me,” he left it slightly open, stammering at the end like he always did when Rick was testing out his limits. He appreciated that Morty didn’t throw the fact that the situation at hand was infinitely more Rick’s fault than his back in his face. Apparently being embarrassingly subservient won out against staying tied up; besides, he had to know that doing what Rick wanted him to and _not pissing him off_ would always speed things up. Rick carefully slid his knife under Morty’s shirt, seeking until he found one of the rips and then tearing it all the way down to expose his soft belly. “Rick, hey!” His objection was quiet, though. They were both painfully aware of the way his erection swelled with his skin on display, not to mention the way Rick had made him betray his best judgement and just _talk_. 

“Cry about it, you’ve got five hundred of the exact same shirt in your closet.” And how many had already been ruined by him in various ways? Rick tested the cable with a long, thin finger, nudged the blade against one of Morty’s wrists. It took a good deal more effort than the shirt but it gave, the unexpected kickback from the last fiber snapping creating a shallow vertical cut on Morty’s already raw skin. He winced and sucked in a small breath but didn’t complain too much. Rick caught his fingers, felt how small his palms were, and sweaty from the anxiety of being captured. Fuckin’ rookie. He leaned over until he could press his lips against the angry wound and licked up the beads of blood. “Anyways, baby, that’s just about right; you’re my sweet girl, don’t forget it.” 

Morty looked dazed again, like he couldn’t believe Rick would eagerly lap at his bleeding cut. He was also known to get sheepish when his partner started winding him up with the humiliating shit that spouted from him naturally. It just made it better for Rick, though, especially when Morty was being anything less than perfectly submissive. “The other hand-?” he questioned softly, and Rick answered by putting the knife on the ground and sliding it just out of Morty’s reach. 

“Don’t be a cocktease, baby, we’re just getting to the good part,” he cooed sarcastically, keeping one possessive hand on Morty’s wrist and letting the other roam his body. He pointedly touched Morty’s erection, then his inner thighs. “You gonna take these off and put on a little, erp, you gonna show me your pussy?” 

It was too easy. Morty made such nice sounds when he was so turned on he couldn’t take it. Just bondage, and a knife, and dirty talk, and once again, _lingerie_ , and the poor thing was drawn so tightly around Rick’s finger that he could probably break. 

“I’m not so sure about that...” He strained against Rick’s tight grasp, no doubt trying to reach for the knife, and Rick rewarded him with a light slap on the cheek. “Rick! Come on, let’s go.” He tried to sound level and commanding but his body betrayed him again. Rick just sneered as he looked on, watched him shake with want. 

He stroked Morty’s obvious bulge with careful fingers, relishing in his kitten mewls and the way his hips chased the feeling. “Shut up, Morty. I already told you we weren’t in a hurry.” He tugged Morty’s wrist towards the seam of his brown slacks and let him feel. His overblown eyes went even wider. “Look what you started, you fucking vixen, you, you dumb little slut. You’re blue-ballin’ me, sweetie, you can’t just wear shit like this and expect me to ignore what a pretty fuckin’ girl you are.” Deftly, quickly, he shrugged the yellow lace down over the tip of Morty’s dick, rubbing his thumb over the head and keeping his mouth in a neutral line. “Let me see your cunt. Show me how pretty you are underneath these.” 

That and the overstimulating soft touches had Morty dragging his panties the rest of the way down with impressive haste for having one free hand and all. Rick helped, only patient enough to get them mid-thigh before they both gave up and Morty was grabbing at Rick’s hand, pulling him towards his newly freed cock. “Touch me, then, I need it,” he pressed, but Rick ignored him and slid his fingers further down, to Morty’s obvious (further) embarrassment. He licked his lip when he felt cold slickness at his destination. 

“Oh, you’re filthy,” he growled, pressing a fingertip just inside Morty’s previously-fingered hole. It made him jolt and shudder and sigh Rick’s name. “A little eager tonight, huh, Morty?” 

“Can’t help it, thinking about you,” he gasped out involuntarily, “but it’s never, n-never as good as you are.” 

Rick helped himself to two fingers inside of Morty. “Fuck no it isn’t, Morty, you’re my bitch.” He laughed, probably a little too cruelly. Morty didn’t seem to mind too much as long as Rick was stretching him open. “Tell me.”

“I’m your bitch,” Morty whined back helplessly, rocking into Rick’s touch, his rough, calloused fingers. His untied hand splayed open against Rick’s clothed chest. 

“Of course you are, baby, it’s obvious to everyone in the multiverse that you belong to me.” Case in point: the situation at hand. Morty was Rick’s most prized possession, no wonder they’d tried to weasel him away. “So easy to fuck you open. How many fingers did you use?” He added a third and Morty just nodded like he didn’t want to say it. “You’re lucky you’re dripping, lucky that your tight little cunt is wet for me, then.” 

“Rick, are you gonna-?” 

“A-am I gonna use your pussy and fill you up ‘til you’re leaking? Uh, yeah, you’re begging me for it.” Sure it wasn’t the best time, but they weren’t exactly accustomed to candles and rose petals and _making love_ \- vomit- either way. Rick didn’t want or like that, he was pretty sure Morty didn’t either. 

Morty just gripped the lapel of his lab coat and parted his lips for his soft, continuous breaths to escape. “Anything you want, I just, I need you to rescue me.” And fuck if his big green eyes, his thick, damp lashes, and the whole tied-up princess begging for his help thing didn’t do it for Rick. He nodded and pulled his fingers out, patting the back of Morty’s thigh before slipping his panties over one of his legs so they bunched up around his ankle. Morty flashed him a blissful little smile. Rick grinned back, unbuckling his belt and shoving his waistband down just enough to free his _very_ interested cock. Morty just looked on, heady and equally intrigued.

“You want it, baby girl?”

Morty worried his lips together, firmly averted his gaze, and said in the sweetest, shyest voice you could ever imagine, “I want to be a good girl, want you to ruin my pussy, _please_.” 

The fresh wave of mortification that rolled off of him when he said it was fucking delicious. Rick didn’t come anywhere near getting off because he wasn’t a bumbling teenage virgin, but he definitely felt whatever blood was left in his upper body run swiftly south. He thumbed at Morty’s rim, holding him open while he lined up against him, brushing his lips against Morty’s forehead. He peered down at Morty when he pushed inside, offering another small kiss when he screwed up his eyes and groaned. “Bet you were waiting for that all night,” he hummed, low and accusatory. 

Morty didn’t try to deny it. He just bucked a little, seating himself further down on Rick’s cock and that on its own was enough to make Rick gasp out loud. His body ceded willingly, pliant and velvety and so fucking wet, just _dripping_ on Rick, and fuck, he was glad that Morty was so voracious, insatiable. He wouldn’t have minded fucking Morty’s pretty thighs, or even his mouth, but it felt so good to sink into his body and split him open. Morty squirmed a bit and gripped at Rick's shirt when he bottomed out. Rick placed a hand on the small of his back to help hold him up in his lap. He didn’t bother asking if Morty was ready; if he wasn’t, he’d adjust quickly. He always did. Morty was good like that. Besides, they probably couldn’t spare the time to take it slow. 

His voice got high and ragged when Rick started to move, setting a quick pace that made them both moan louder than they probably should have. It had Morty whining and grimacing all the same. “Just- hold on,” Rick encouraged through gritted teeth, but he didn’t slow. They panted together, Rick rubbing his face against Morty’s shoulder and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into his skin. He bemusedly tugged at Morty’s tattered shirt and grazed the side of his neck with his sharply pointed canines. Morty whimpered appreciatively and finally started to rock his hips back against Rick’s. Rick smiled against the side of his neck. “That’s my good girl. You’re so easy.”

“I’m yours, Rick, I’m your Morty, I want to be good for you,” he said obediently, tilting his head and twisting his hand in Rick’s wild hair to hold him in place. Rick allowed it for the time being. Morty was so soft and unblemished and Rick wanted to dress him up with bruising kisses and general ruin. He groaned when Morty tightened around him. 

“You’re my Morty,” Rick shot back, “that’s why I always come- why I’m always coming after you, you’re my baby, right, promise I’ll always come rescue you.” It was slightly embarrassing to say out loud but Morty ate it up, smiling widely and then biting his lip to keep from crying out. “Even if you are a dumb little fuck most times.” 

Morty just shrugged it off like he figured Rick was saving face, throwing his freckled arm around Rick’s shoulder and pulling him closer. His fingers tangled in the fabric. Rick buried himself to the hilt and then pulled out slowly, the tip of his cock rubbing against Morty’s fucked-open entrance, just barely catching before he made it all the way out. Rick thought he might come when he thrust back in but he was determined to outlast Morty. 

Speaking of the kid, he was all but writhing under Rick’s body. Their chests pressed together through a layer of fabric and Rick took the opportunity to lean down and lap at one of his reddish nipples. Morty was just as sweet as ever, spurring Rick on by squeezing around him, even if the big intrusion made him squirm when it was all the way inside. He really did take it like a champ. Rick reached up and ruffled his hair. 

“You gonna be sweet, wanna come without me touching you?” He caressed one finger up the side of Morty’s length, drawing the strangled kind of moan that usually came with being close to overdue release. Morty nodded his agreement. Rick was pretty sure he’d go along with anything just then, not that he was particularly hard to sway at any other time. Even so, Rick mercifully wrapped a loose hand around him, cataloguing how small his features were underneath his own large, commandeering grip. He was always impatient towards the end of the ordeal, sue him. 

Morty braced a foot on the floor, grappling for leverage to thrust into Rick’s slicked-up fingers. Every frantic little push had him taking Rick deeper, and Rick barely had to move at all, content to let his companion ride if he was that desperate for it. It was good like this too, felt so good to be swallowed up in his clumsy, lustful movements. Morty’s hand had found its way under the collar of Rick’s shirt and his surprisingly sharp nails dug into his heated skin. “Can I please,” he breathed out, voice catching on his words when Rick sucked on his collarbone, traced the slight dip with his teeth. 

“Use your words,” Rick replied, guttural and a bit lost. 

“Please let me come?” 

Rick grunted his approval, scratching his own nails into the fleshiest part of Morty’s back just to watch him twist. “Since you’re such a good girl, making me feel so good,” he purred.

Morty snapped faster than the thread around his wrist had, spilling hot and sticky over Rick’s hand and his own stomach, and Rick thought it might stop him from whining about his sliced-up shirt anymore. The look of him completely spent and twitching after Rick picked up his speed was almost too much. Rick held both of his hips in his big hands, his thumbs dipping into the slanted parts of his pelvis. His skin was burning up, like he was still cold-blooded but Rick was his fucking sun. They both basked in it. 

“Feels so good inside you, Morty, you’re so pretty, gonna look even better filled up for me,” he chanted into his soft, messy curls. Morty just begged unspecifically and turned his head to kiss at Rick’s neck, his cheek. Whatever he could reach. It was Morty running his nose against the side of Rick’s face and stroking the back of his neck where his hair was short and wiry that forcibly dragged him over the edge. The subtle warmth of the gesture had him rutting in deep, wheezing out his orgasm in the crook of Morty’s neck. “Baby,” he murmured gently, the start of a statement that neither of them would ever man up and finish. 

He pulled out wetly and winced at the sudden chill against his sensitive skin. Morty was definitely worse off, but god, if he didn’t look gorgeous all splayed out and seeping (he ignored the mess pooling on his slacks, since Morty was essentially sitting in his lap now). If they’d had more time he would have stopped to help clean it all up. He didn’t seem too bothered either way, though, just smiling hazily up at Rick and spreading his legs to give him a better view. “Thank you, Rick,” he whispered, dreamy. 

“Don’t get too mushy on me,” he cautioned, but there was no real malice behind it. He pet Morty’s side, feeling up the spaces between his ribs. Morty kept on grinning. 

Any sense of urgency they’d felt before was lost while they absently rubbed their fingers over each other. It was almost sweet, until violent banging on the door cut through their comfortable silence. They both jumped and Rick instinctively clapped a hand over Morty’s mouth to keep him from freaking out. “Alright, so this may be bad, but the door should- the door _will_ hold long enough for me to get you out of here, Morty,” he said in a stage-whisper, fumbling around on the floor for the sharp tool he’d abandoned before. “Sorry about your clothes, and, y’know.” The anxiety coming off Morty was fucking palpable, to a comical degree. Rick had to laugh. Morty nipped at his palm, clearly scowling from the look in his eyes, and Rick swore at him, flashed him a Look. “I’m trying to help, idiot.” 

The slamming on the door amped up frantically, shaking the foundation of the room, and Rick just barely grabbed his knife before it was vibrated away from him. He set to work on sawing through Morty’s restraint and Morty rubbed his clearly aching skin as soon as he was free. “Can we go home now?” 

“Yes, Morty, we can go the fuck home. Stay close.” He opened up a portal and didn’t dare look back when the door groaned and gave way, just gripped Morty’s arm tight and pulled them both through. 

As good as Morty was at being a damsel, Rick didn’t quite have the knight in shining armour thing down yet. He figured he’d have plenty of opportunities to figure it out. 

**Author's Note:**

> were they just roleplaying or are they that horny and dumb... that's for you decide hunty 
> 
> come talk to me here! http://rickestmortys.tumblr.com/ i'll take prompts and am just happy to chat!!! sorry again for this work, oof, i really hope it's good and decently ic !!!


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